


The Broken Children

by Clarisse (transnymphtaire)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Massachusetts, Post-Squip, Trans Characters, autistic characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 18:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11719827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transnymphtaire/pseuds/Clarisse
Summary: Harry has never known magic. Vernon Dursley was transferred to equivalent of Grunnings in Middleborough, Massachusetts long before any Hogwarts letters could be sent out, and Harry hasn't shown many signs of magic at all since he was child. Not that the Dursley family wants anything to do with Harry, now that Petunia is expecting.Jeremy tries to heal after the whole Squip incident, but it's hard. Especially when he can't shake the feeling that the squip isn't quite as gone as he thought that it was. Not to mention how weird it is to be around Michael, and Rich, and Christine, and all the others after what happened.Evan has a broken arm, no friends, and a mum that he barely sees. His loneliness and anxiety are his worst enemies. It's hard, wanting to try for his mum, and wishing his fall had resulted in something worse than a broken arm.Then they all meet, and things start looking better. Not that they really trust it to last...





	The Broken Children

**Author's Note:**

> Ey. Crossovers are cool. Also I know literally nothing about Massachusetts or even USA, but Jeremy goes to Middleborough High School, and there's a Middleborough High School in Middleborough, Massachusetts, so here we are.
> 
> This is gonna stick to Harry, Jeremy and Evan's povs, because while I know how to write Tom, I don't feel up to writing Michael or Connor. Hell, I've never written Jeremy before, and I have very little experience writing Evan.

**Harry Potter**

The 31st of July has never been a good day in Harry’s experience, but it’s worse than usual this year. He thought he would be blessed enough to sleep until after the sun rose, but his uncle is banging on his bedroom door as early as dawn.

“Happy birthday to me,” Harry yawns, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He picks a t-shirt off a chair and pulls it over his head, before grabbing his glasses. Clothed and able to see, he opens his bedroom door, at last, only to be met with his red faced uncle.

“I want you out of my house,” his uncle greets him. The pauses between the words make it seem like each word is its own sentence, though Harry is since long fluent when it comes to his uncle’s way of speaking.

“So do you want me back before or after dinner?” Harry asks, used to this behaviour. He makes the mistake of turning his back towards his uncle as he grabs for his backpack; it’s always filled with some things to entertain him for after school or when he gets kicked out during holidays.

“That’s the thing, boy, I don’t want you back here ever again.”

Harry pauses in his actions and looks over his shoulder at his uncle, whose red face has given place for an extremely smug look. It didn’t look like Vernon was joking.... not that his uncle was known for joking except for obscene golf jokes.

“How come?” Harry asks; because after living there for 15 years, he feels like he has the right to know.

“We need the room in eight months for a new Dursley, and we have to renovate it from any traces of you, boy,” his uncle spits out. Harry is too shocked to hear that Petunia is pregnant to do anything but nod. He wouldn’t want to be around any more Dursleys anyway.

“Give me an hour to pack, and I’ll be out of here,” Harry promises. Not that he has any friend to crash with, but he should be able to find his way to a homeless shelter. All in all, being rid of the Dursleys wasn’t a too bad way to celebrate his 16th birthday. No more abuse sounded pretty good.

“An hour and nothing more, or I’ll throw you out on the street myself!” uncle Vernon answers and waves his fist in the air for good measure before leaving Harry alone.

An hour later, Harry finds himself on the sidewalk outside of the Dursley home. He has his backpack hanging off his shoulder, and an old gym bag packed to the seams with clothes in his hand. All of his clothes - except for his underwear - has been Dudley’s once, but it’s better than nothing.

He would feel better if he carried any money or a phone, but neither are things that the Dursleys would ever give him.

With a sigh and one last look at the house he has lived in for the last 15 years, Harry takes off.

* * *

**Jeremy Heere**

Although it has been months since he deactivated the Squip, things have yet to find their way back to how it was before. Jeremy understands why, but he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like that Michael asks how he is every day and always carries around a bottle of Mountain Dew Red. He doesn’t like the glances that Rich sends his way. He doesn’t like the way that anyone looks at him to be honest, especially not the looks that he gets from Christine.

In many ways, Jeremy can’t help but think that it was better when he had a Squip, when there was the voice of Keanu Reeves telling him what he should do. He doesn’t know what to do now when he keeps freaking out because he doesn’t know if the voices in his head that tell him that he’s worthless belongs to him or not. When he can’t look at a bottle of Mountain Dew without feeling like throwing up. When he can’t meet Michael’s eyes without thinking about when he told the Squip to block Michael from his field of vision.

Jeremy knows that he fucked up badly, and there’s nothing he can do to escape it, and it’s killing him.

“Wish I was a penguin,” he sighs, eyes stuck to the ceiling of Michael’s basement. The summer would be a lot worse if he didn’t spend as much time as possible with Michael, killing zombies and making up for lost times.

“No flying?” Michael asks. “That’s not cool, dude.”

Jeremy smiles weakly and breathes in the smoke from the blunt that Michael’s holding. He opted out of smoking it himself, but the second-hand high is pretty nice. Calming. Mutes his anxiety and fills his mind with penguins instead.

“Swimming is pretty cool,” he protests, trying to picture what it would be like. Cold, probably.

“Jer, if you wanna drive out to the ocean, just say so.”

“Not really. Would be up for killing some more zombies tho.”

Michael hands him a control and starts up Apocalypse of the Damned. Jeremy takes it and waits as Michael starts up the game.

If he pictures that the zombies are the Squip as the play, there’s no one that can say anything about that. He tells himself that the whiny _Jeremy_ in his head is a figment of his overactive imagination.

* * *

  **Evan Hansen**

A week ago, Evan had been in one of the highest trees in Myles Standish State Park, and he had willingly let go. Now he is stuck in his room, a cast on his left arm, more of a burden to his mum than ever. He wishes that he hadn’t survived the fall, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

Maybe his mum was right and his senior year would be better… if not, well, the trees would still be there after his cast got off. He barely finishes the thought before a wave of self-hatred washes over him. He’s pathetic. No one even knows that his arm is broken, except for his mum and the park ranger that had driven him to the hospital. It wasn’t like he had any friends to tell.

...well, there was Jared, but Evan feels pretty sure that Jared would make fun of him. Then there was Zoe, but they aren’t friends. She probably doesn’t know that he exists. He doesn’t even consider Alana - she spoke to everybody. He isn’t anything special to her.

He isn’t anything special to anyone, except his mum. Not even his dad.

“Okay, no Evan, we don’t think about that…” he mumbles to himself and sits up. He has been lying in bed the whole morning, and there has to be something that he can do. Like water his plants, or do as his therapist wants and write one of those letters to himself. He hasn’t done it as much that his mum thinks that he has. It’s stupid, writing letters to himself. It doesn’t help either, just gives him a new medium to hate himself on.

In the end, Evan takes care of the plant that his mum got him as a get-well gift. It’s a succulent so there’s not much to do, but he spends twenty minutes taking care of it just for the peace of mind. He likes succulents, but trees are the best. They don’t have any tree in their yard, or much of a yard at all. His mum doesn’t have time to take care of one, and Evan prefers the safety of his room so he hasn’t done anything with it either.

Maybe he should. He wonders if his mum would be happy, or if she would be worried about a higher water bill. It was much easier to overthink things than it was to do them.

**Author's Note:**

> Updates happen when they happen. Comments help.
> 
> also this is un-betaed and also written at like 4-5 am so if there's any mistakes, tell me


End file.
